Broken Circles
by Gift of the Muses
Summary: My life seems to be made of circles but they're broken. I can see my goal but I can't reach it no matter how hard I try.
1. Chapter 1

Quatre was the last person Duo expected to see as he entered the hotel's bar. He was here on one of the L3 sectors smaller colonies for a meeting with one of his suppliers. Everything had gone well and he had planned on relaxing a little before heading to bed in preparation for his early flight back to Earth the next morning. All that changed when he saw a familiar head of blonde hair.

Quatre was sitting at the long bar, both elbows propped on the glossy wood. Even from a distance he looked wrecked. Duo slid onto the stool next to him, a large grin plastered on his face. "Hey Quatre! What're the odds we'd run into each other here? I thought you were back on L4."

The blonde glanced over at him. For a moment happiness lit up his blue eyes. The spark faded quicker then Duo was used to. "Duo." The lilt to his voice sounded forced. "What are you doing here?"

"Ah, just a business meeting. You know how that goes." Duo gave the other man a friendly slap on the shoulder.

"Mmm." Quatre made a noncommittal noise.

The bartender came up and Duo ordered a beer. He waited until the man moved to help another patron at the other end of the bar before speaking again.

"Hey, what's up with you man?"

"What do you mean?" Quatre took a drink, ice cubes clinking as he gently lowered his glass back on top of the napkin in front of him.

"You're not acting like yourself Quatre. Don't try to deny it. I might not be the most observant guy but I can tell that much." Duo took a swig of his beer, not staring at his friend while he waited for an answer.

"The damn universe must really have it in for me." Quatre didn't sound angry, just sad, extraordinarily sad. "I came here because I didn't think there was the slightest possibility I would run into anyone I knew."

The colony they were on was about a weeks space travel from the colony where Quatre's company was located. "Kind of a long way to go just to get a drink." Duo took another swallow of beer and then held the bottle contemplating it for a moment. It was so out of character for Quatre that he felt the first stirrings of fear deep in his gut. "You don't want to talk about it?"

There was a sigh and Quatre seemed to fold in on himself even more, hunching his shoulders further. He lifted his drink slightly, watching as the napkin stayed glued to the bottom of the glass by the condensation. "I'm not allowed to get depressed?"

"No, 'cause the last time you did you went ape-shit and started blowing up colonies." The statement was meant as a joke but seemed to have the opposite effect. Quatre's eyes darkened and he turned his head away. Duo could see his reflection in the bar mirror looked haunted. "Sorry dude, that wasn't what I meant." Duo tried to patch up the wound he'd opened inadvertently. _Me and my big mouth. Hilde was right, I really don't think before I speak. Idiot._ He set his beer down and started drumming his fingers lightly on the bar top. "Listen Quatre, if you can't talk to me then you should at least find someone you can talk to. It's not good to keep things bottled up inside."

"Yes well, I already tried that. It didn't really go that well." Quatre took another drink and then squared his shoulders. "It's been officially decided that I'm obviously too mentally disturbed to be in any type of leadership position."

"What are you talking about?"

Quatre gave a tired laugh. "I'm not the head of Winner Incorporated anymore."

"What?!" Duo turned, surprised. "How the hell did that happen?"

"Some kind of psych test all the employees had to take. One of my sisters must've insisted on it. As CEO I wasn't exempt. I didn't pass. About five of my sisters and their husbands took control. I'm CEO in name only now and that's to avoid any bad press. I have no real authority anymore."

"They can't really do that can they?"

"Trust me Duo, I looked. They can and did. There's a document drawn up full of a ton of legal bullshit basically saying I'm not stable enough to run a company of the magnitude of Winner Incorporated, blah blah blah." Quatre waved a limp hand.

"Nice family."

"Everything seems so pointless now." Quatre sighed. "I mean if this is where living as responsibly as I can gets me then I guess I'll just forget all about it. Here's to irresponsibility." He drained his glass and motioned the bartender. "Keep them coming."

Duo nursed his beer as he watched Quatre steadily down drink after drink. Outside of a little social drinking the blonde had never been a heavy drinker and this change was making the unease he'd been feeling grow. He shifted on his stool uncomfortably fighting nature's call as long as he could, not wanting to leave Quatre alone. His bladder eventually won. "Excuse me a moment Quatre, but I really have to hit the john." He stood, laid a hand on Quatre's shoulder and squeezed lightly. "I'll be right back."

Washing his hands afterwards he considered calling someone, but who? And what would he say? He gave up the idea and headed back to where he'd left Quatre. He was just in time to see him disappearing into an elevator with a stranger. The other man had his arm slung comfortably around Quatre's shoulders and was laughing at something. As the elevator doors slid shut he bent down and kissed the blonde.

"Damn, this really isn't good." Duo couldn't stop himself from hunting up a long distance phone and punching in a number he had memorized.

"You better have a damn good reason for waking me up." The voice was familiar and slightly grumpy. Duo did a quick mental check and realized how late it was for the person he'd called.

"Sorry about that Heero, I just wanted to ask if you had Trowa's contact information."

"And you couldn't wait until a decent hour?"

There was a rustle on the other end and Duo heard a female voice ask something sleepily. Heero responded quietly and then there was the sound of a door shutting. "Now what's so urgent you need to contact Trowa about?" Heero sounded more awake now. "I thought you were meeting one of your suppliers."

"I was and then I ran into Quatre. Something's wrong with him, I mean, he was drinking. Trying to get smashed as fast as possible drinking, not any of his normal polite sip and pretend stuff. Then he just left with a strange guy who looked like he was interested in doing more than making out if you know what I mean."

There was a silence on the other end. Duo waited. When Heero finally answered he sounded impatient. "That still doesn't explain why you want to contact Trowa."

Duo took time to explain everything Quatre'd told him. "But there's something else bothering him besides what he told me. I think Trowa might be the only one who Quatre'll actually talk to. He skirted around what was really bothering him with me, got totally sloshed and went off with that guy."

"Stop panicking Duo. Quatre's a big boy, I'm sure he can handle himself. And I honestly don't think talking to Trowa will help all that much."

"You know, you can really be a cold, heartless bastard sometimes." Duo's fist tightened on the phone. "There's something really bugging Quatre and forgive me if I'm worried about a _friend._ Why the hell do you think that talking to Trowa wouldn't help him? They're best friends."

"_You_ can be really dense sometimes Duo." Heero sounded irritated. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed that Quatre's in love with Trowa."

"What?" Duo thanked all the gods in the universe that the booth he was in was soundproof. Otherwise his yelp would've attracted a lot of attention.

"You heard me idiot. If something besides losing control of his company is wrong I'd bet my salary it has something to do with Trowa." There was a sigh. "Quatre's been avoiding Trowa for a while. I don't know what happened but I don't think we should get in the middle of it. Whatever it is they need to work it out between them." Heero sounded implacable. "About his company I think he'll manage, he's got a pretty good lawyer. If he asks for help I'll be there, but until then I'm not going to interfere."

"Oh, I see." Duo found himself speechless. He pulled his thoughts together. "Sorry I woke you. Tell Relena I didn't mean to disturb her." He didn't register Heero's answer as he hung the phone up and leaned back in his chair. He couldn't head back in the morning. Regardless of Heero's faith in Quatre to take care of himself Duo wasn't so sure that was the case. He was going to miss his flight.

He headed for the front desk. He didn't know if Quatre was actually staying in this hotel or not, but he was determined to find out. Using persuasion and a decently plausible excuse he charmed the information out of the woman behind the desk, leaving her blushing with her address written on the palm of his hand.

In his room he absently cleaned the ink off his hand. He was tempted to visit Quatre's room but propriety held him back. _If_ Quatre was involved in some horizontal tango he probably wouldn't be appreciative of Duo barging in. Besides, Duo grimaced as his mind conjured up several images that he just as rapidly tried to forget, he really didn't want to be witness to anything of that nature.

:/\:

Quatre woke up with a pounding headache. "So ends my night of debauchery." Sitting up he grimaced as his stomach roiled rebelliously. His bedmate was still fast asleep. The man didn't stir as Quatre slipped from the bed and headed for the bathroom. He made it, but just barely. After he was finished retching he rinsed his mouth and took inventory of his other aches and pains. The sex the previous night must've been rough since he found evidence that he'd been bleeding, but try as he might he couldn't remember what it'd been like. He couldn't spend much time thinking about it as his stomach heaved and he lurched for the toilet again.

After his nausea settled he dragged himself into the shower and turned on the water as hot as he could stand. He scrubbed himself watching as his motions and heat of the water turned his skin red. It seemed surprising that the simple action of showering could be so draining. He turned off the water wearily feeling the water droplets sliding down his body as he simply stood there, hands braced against the shower wall.

When he finally emerged from the bathroom he found the room empty. Quatre pushed down a sense of relief that he wouldn't have to confront the man and retrieved the only luggage he had with him, a large backpack.

In the lobby he saw Duo sitting in an armchair reading a newspaper.

"I was supposed to fly home this morning." Duo said nonchalantly, not looking up from the paper as he spoke. "Hilde of course is going to be pissed at me. She thinks I waste money as it is."

"I didn't ask you to stay." Quatre knew he sounded defensive and he hated it.

"You're my friend." Duo's voice was unexpectedly gentle. He turned a page and shook the paper slightly to straighten it. "And I'm worried about you, isn't that a good enough reason?"

Quatre fought against a lump in his throat. His emotions were a jumbled mess and his head was still throbbing.

Duo folded up his paper and tucked it under an arm as he stood up. "Come on then."

"Where?"

"To get some breakfast."

Even the thought of food made his stomach churn but Quatre followed Duo quietly. Outside Duo led him to a rental car. Quatre dropped his backpack in the back seat and slid into the passengers side.

Duo was quiet as he drove and Quatre nursed his headache, opening the window and enjoying the feel of the wind blowing through the car. "It's not the same as Earth. There's a different smell here in the colonies, not unpleasant, but different. I still don't think there's anyplace as beautiful as Earth." He knew he was rambling, but he found he didn't want to stop.

"Do you want to go back?"

"Huh?" Quatre opened his eyes and looked over at Duo.

"To Earth." Duo clarified.

"To be honest I don't really know what I want to do." Quatre closed his eyes again and fell silent. He must've drowsed because he startled with Duo shook him.

"We're here."

Quatre opened his eyes and blinked in surprise.

"It's a park." Duo seemed a bit sheepish. "I did a bit of exploring, found this place online. Doesn't seem like a lot of people come here early in the morning."

Quatre pushed open his car door and pulled himself up. It _was_ a park, swings, slides and other playground equipment. But most surprising were the trees. Tall and well grown they rustled in a light breeze. Near the stand of trees were several picnic tables. Quatre started for them. The grass was dewy and the bottom of his jeans were soaked by the time he reached the tables. He ignored that fact and sat down, pulling out a pair of sunglasses and putting them on.

Duo followed him loaded down by the stuff he was carrying. He plopped down on the bench opposite to Quatre with a sigh. "Nice here huh?" He grinned cheerfully. "Alright, let's see what we have here."

Quatre grimaced as the scent of food wafted toward him.

"Since I figured you would have one hell of a hangover I brought some of my own sure fire cure." Duo thumped a thermos onto the table. "Coffee." He poured some into a cup and handed it Quatre.

It was still warm. Quatre held the cup, inhaling the steam that swirled up. Cautiously he took a sip, relieved when his stomach didn't rebel.

Duo poured himself a cup and settled back. "Something else has been bothering you."

Quatre stared down at the table, grateful his sunglasses hid his eyes.

"Did something happen between you and Trowa?"

Quatre's head shot up. "What? How did you know?"

Duo scrubbed one hand over the back of his head. "Heero told me you were in love with him." He admitted uncomfortably.

Quatre groaned and dropped his head into his hands.

"I knew I was going to make a mess of this." Duo muttered. "Listen Quatre I can be really stupid when it comes to relationships and stuff like that, but if you want to talk about it I'm willing to listen and I won't judge."

"I don't know." Quatre considered for a moment. He'd been holding in his feelings and the hurt that accompanied them for so long it felt like they were a festering wound inside his heart.

"To be honest I really don't know what to say." Quatre set his empty cup down on the table and crossed his arms. _I've always felt such a deep connection with him, since that first moment when he exited his Gundam, surrendering to me. It became cemented when he played the flute accompanying my violin._

"Don't feel obligated to talk about it." Duo's voice interrupted his thoughts. "I just offered if you wanted to."

"It's complicated."

"Most everything is."

"I feel like my life is made up of circles, going round and round, but they're broken. I can see where the end is but I never reach my desired goal because something's always in the way." Quatre glanced over at Duo and then away. "I went to see Trowa about a month ago, I wanted to see if he… if he felt the same way I did. I expressed my interest and he, well…" _he did nothing. No response._ And it broke his heart even more then a rejection would've, because that at least would've been an acknowledgement of him and his feelings.

"Well, maybe he didn't understand, maybe you weren't obvious enough."

Quatre snorted. "To get anymore obvious I would've had to go up behind him and start humping his ass."

"Oh, great mental picture." Duo groaned and then asked curious. "Why didn't you?"

"Honestly now I don't know. Then I was still laboring under the illusion that being responsible and all that other crap was something I had to do."

Trowa's silence had been painful, but he had picked up the pieces of his heart and had moved on although he had turned coward and avoided Trowa. Everything would've stayed the same until the mess with his leadership position. Losing his power by being told there was something psychologically wrong with him crushed the remains of his self esteem. He cast aside the image he'd projected all those years and disappeared before someone decided he needed to start visited a psychologist.

"So, why don't you find Trowa and get an answer from him?"

"I suppose because I'm a coward."

"Don't give me that bullshit Quatre." Duo said harshly. "I know for a fact that you're no coward." His voice turned gentle again as he continued. "There could've been a lot of reasons why he didn't respond when you told him how you felt. You should know that sometimes Trowa seems even less cognizant of relationships then the rest of us combined."

"Big word Duo." Quatre murmured

"Ah, shut up." Duo flushed. "Anyway, what I'm trying to say is he really might not've understood. Or maybe you just surprised him and left before he could say anything. Or something…" Duo waved a hand expressively. "I just think that even if he can't return your feelings that your relationship can still continue. If you were as good of friends as you appeared then he shouldn't drop you just because you're in love with him."

"I don't think life's that simple." Quatre reached for the thermos and poured himself another cup of coffee.

"And I think you're trying to make it more complicated then it is." Duo shot back. "What more do you have to lose?"

What did he have to lose except that last piece of his heart that hung on, hoping that maybe there really was a chance, the piece that had grown bigger listening to Duo talk. "What indeed." He gulped a mouthful of coffee, feeling the liquid burn all the way down to his stomach.

"Well," Duo turned from the subject with an air of finality that told Quatre he'd said all he was going to say. "Now, how about some breakfast?"

:/\:

There really wasn't any other place as beautiful as Earth in his opinion. Quatre hitched his backpack up higher and took a deep breath. Dressed in a dark green hoodie and jeans he knew he looked like just another college student hitchhiking across Europe. It had taken him a while to track down the circus Trowa performed in. He'd finally found out that they had migrated from the colonies to Earth. And that information had brought him to this moment outside a small village in France while he stared at the familiar brightly colored tents and felt all his resolve melt away.

"Wuss," He taunted himself. "What are you so afraid of?" But he was, he felt the emotion clench his stomach. _I can always just watch the show and maybe afterwards…_ Maybe afterwards he'd have enough courage to approach Trowa. If not he could always slip away unnoticed. Yes and end up following the circus as it toured Europe like a obsessed groupie.

He mingled in with the crowd that had already gathered and purchased a ticket. Inside the tent there was a strong smell of sawdust mixed with sweat. Quatre found a seat close to the top, listening to the excited voices chattering around him as the big top filled with people.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WELCOME…."

Quatre watched, relaxed, as the Ringmaster introduced each act until he came to Trowa's. He leaned forward, straining to see the tall figure that moved gracefully into the spotlight, even decked out in his clown suit as he was.

"…WITH FEATS OF ACROBATIC GRACE NOT SEEN ANYWHERE ELSE IN THE WORLD…"

Quatre tuned out the Ringmaster, drinking in the sight of Trowa, his face hidden behind his half mask. He knew by heart how deep green Trowa's eyes were, heard again the simple beauty of his flute playing. As he watched Trowa go through his act he felt like his heart was going to stop.

Trowa finished, straightened up from his last bow and then his gaze rose scanning over the crowd and coming to rest on Quatre. He shrank back on the bench, frozen by that piercing stare. The look seemed to last for an eternity before Trowa sank into another graceful bow and glided out of the ring. Quatre felt himself deflate, the tension leaving his body. So much for slipping out unnoticed. He couldn't do that now. He would have to meet Trowa, see what he had to say, find out where he stood.

He sat through the rest of the acts a tight bundle of nerves, hands folded firmly in front of him. He waited as the rest of the crowd poured from the tent before he stood, lifting his backpack from where it had rested between his feet and made his way down the bleachers and out of the tent.

There was still quite a crowd mingling about, enjoying the side shows. He pushed through heading to where the trailers for the performers and the cages holding the animals were located.

"Hey, you can't be back here." A hand fell on his shoulder and he was spun around to face a stocky young man. "Performers only."

"I'm sorry," Quatre started to apologize.

"It's okay Tony, I know him."

"If you say so Cath," Tony released him and Quatre turned to face a familiar redhead.

Catherine was still dressed in her outfit, and though she had washed off most of her makeup Quatre could still see traces of glitter here and there on her face. Her light blue eyes were neutral as she came to a stop a few feet away. "Quatre, it's been a while, I really didn't expect to see you."

"Yes, well, I wanted to get away, come to Earth and do little sightseeing, then I heard the circus was here and stopped by." Quatre clamped his mouth shut so hard his teeth clicked together. Catherine hadn't ever liked him but she had come to tolerate his presence, still he never could help trying to get on her good side. She was, after all, Trowa's sister, in heart if not in blood.

"What do you want?" The tone of her voice didn't change and Quatre wondered again if she had somehow learned that he had been the one responsible for Trowa's amnesia during the war. If so, that would explain her constant cold behavior.

"I told him the circus was here Cathy."

Catherine looked up, her gaze looking beyond Quatre. "Oh, Trowa." She huffed out a breath accepting the lie easily. "I'm going to change." She whirled around and flounced away.

Quatre heart began thudding harder in his chest. He could feel Trowa as he stopped behind him. The taller man's presence was like an electric wave, raising the small hairs on his body. "She really hates me." Quatre managed to choke out. He turned and felt his breath catch as he met Trowa's gaze.

"She doesn't hate you as much as you think." There was amusement in Trowa's voice. "Hello Quatre, it's been a while hasn't it?"

"Yeah." Quatre breathed. His heartbeat was so loud he thought maybe Trowa could hear it thundering away in his chest. He found he couldn't say any more, frozen, unsure of how he should proceed.

"I was just going to get changed, want to come along?"

At the invitation Quatre realized that Trowa was still decked out in his costume. He gave a mute nod and followed as Trowa led him to one of the trailers. As Trowa pulled open the door he found his tongue again. "You and Cathy aren't living together anymore?"

"No, she got engaged and moved into her fiancée's trailer. He's one of the trapeze artists." Trowa held the door. "Come on then."

Quatre climbed the small metal stairs, brushing against Trowa as he entered and that slightest bit of contact sent his heart racing even harder. Trowa seemed unfazed, simply shutting the door behind him and turning away.

"Make yourself comfortable while I clean up." Trowa disappeared into a back room.

Quatre dropped his backpack to the floor with a thud and looked about. The trailer hadn't changed all that much except for the absence of Catherine's belongings. He pulled out one of the chairs at the small kitchen table and sat. He could hear Trowa moving around in the bedroom and the sound of a shower coming to life. His nervousness grew. What should he say? How could he explain himself? He resisted the urge to pace as the minutes ticked by silently

Trowa came out of the bedroom dressed casually, all traces of his clown makeup gone. His hair was still damp from his recent shower and he casually pushed a few errant strands aside as he opened the refrigerator door. "Want something to drink?"

"Sure."

Trowa pulled out two soft drinks and set one in front of Quatre before settling himself in the other chair. He popped the tab on his drink and took a long swallow. Quatre gripped his can, fiddling with the tab on the top. "Your performance was really good. You've added a couple new routines haven't you?"

"Yeah." Trowa set his drink down on the table and leaned back in his chair. "Can't become predicable, that's the one thing the Ringmaster won't stand for. Fresh new acts draw in the crowds." He smiled.

Silence. Quatre finally opened his can, the hiss of the carbonation releasing sounded louder then it actually was. "So how long are you going to be on Earth?"

"I'm not entirely sure. We have a pretty full schedule. Maybe a year. If things go well we might stay longer before heading back up to tour through the colonies again." Trowa took another drink.

_Why won't he say anything? _The question was running rampant through Quatre's mind. He tightened his grip on his soda.

"How's things with your company?"

"Okay I guess. I don't really know." Quatre glanced up to see Trowa looking steadily at him and quickly dropped his gaze back down.

"What happened Quatre?"

"Nothing important."

"You never go anywhere unless you're accompanied by at least one of the Maguanac Corps." Trowa pointed out calmly. "But here you are, traveling about on foot, not a single guard in sight."

"It's not important." Quatre insisted. _I don't want to talk about my company I want to know what you think of me. Please…._

"Alright."

Another silence. Quatre was used to the quiet. Trowa was never very loquacious, but now the lack of noise pressed down on him until he felt like he couldn't breath. "Why don't you say something?" He burst out, unable to stop himself.

"About what?"

Quatre slammed both hands on the table top and shot to his feet. He heard his chair clatter to the floor. "You _know._ Did I disgust you or do you just not care?" He stumbled over the last word and then to his shock and horror realized he was crying. He dropped his head, hiding his face. During his outburst he'd knocked over his can of pop and the brown liquid was spreading, dripping off the edge of the table to pool on the floor.

"Quatre."

There was untold warmth in that single word. Quatre couldn't look up, all he could do was stand there trying to stop the tears that continued to flow. There was a scraping noise as Trowa pushed back his chair and then strong hands were gripping him and he was pulled into an embrace. Quatre buried his face in the front of Trowa's shirt, breathing his familiar scent, his arms desperately clamped around the taller man's waist. Trowa held him firmly, one hand stroking his hair in a soothing manner.

After a time Quatre stopped shaking and sighed, releasing his death grip on Trowa. As he pushed back Trowa released him. "I'm sorry." He mumbled chancing a glance up at Trowa's face. What he saw there made him freeze.

"Soft, tenderhearted Quatre." Trowa purred, fingertips lightly stroking the side of Quatre's face. "Beautiful, beautiful_ blind_ Quatre. Couldn't you tell?" His hand paused and tilted Quatre's chin up as he bent down and kissed him.

At the first touch of those lips Quatre felt his knees buckle but Trowa caught him about the waist in an iron tight grip even as his tongue urged Quatre's mouth to open. Quatre submitted, letting Trowa control the kiss, giving himself up to rapture.

Trowa broke the kiss with reluctance and Quatre sagged, hands weakly gripping the front of Trowa's shirt. "So you..?" He began, dazedly.

"Yes." Trowa pressed a kiss to his forehead before maneuvering him around and lowering him into a chair. Quatre sat obediently, he didn't think his legs would hold him. He watched as Trowa found a towel and started mopping up the spilled soda.

"Why didn't you say something?" He had to ask.

"You never gave me the opportunity." Trowa crouched down to clean the floor. "You dropped your bombshell and then fled the scene too quickly."

"I was so afraid. Petrified. I couldn't stand to lose you. I thought everything would be over if I did."

Trowa stopped his cleaning and stared at Quatre, gaze steady. "You can't lose me and even if you did nothing would've been over. Your world's not that small."

"It is now." Quatre sighed.

Trowa gave the floor one last swipe and tossed the towel into the sink. He picked up the chair Quatre'd knocked over and straddled it backward, chin resting on top of his folded arms. "So, what happened Quatre?"

Quatre told him and Trowa listened quietly. When Quatre finished he didn't say anything, only stood up extending a hand towards him. "Let's play together."

"I don't have my violin." Quatre took Trowa's hand, let him pull him to his feet, draw him into the tiny open area that adjoined the kitchen. Trowa rummaged for a moment and came up with a violin case that he handed silently to Quatre. Quatre opened the case and pulled out the instrument. He sucked in a breath as he ran a hand over the smooth grained wood. "It's beautiful Trowa." He plucked the strings, paused to adjust them slightly before drawing the bow over them slowly, coaxing out a haunting melody. Trowa watched as he played, a satisfied smile on his face. Quatre finished and sighed, feeling happier then he'd felt in a long time. "I thought we were going to play together."

Trowa pulled out his flute and began playing a familiar duet. Quatre laughed and joined in, his fingers flying over the strings. From that song they segued into other music without the slightest hesitation. Quatre's eyes closed, letting his fingers and ears guide him.

"MASTER WINNER!"

The music came to an abrupt halt. Quatre's eyes flew open. There was a pound on the door followed by another shout. "We know you're in there Master Winner. If you don't come out we'll have to come in after you."

They'd found him sooner then he thought they would. Quatre knelt, gently replacing the violin in it's case. "I have to go." He handed the violin back to Trowa. "Thank you." It was time to head back to his world of powerlessness, sit back down on his paper throne.

Trowa set the violin down and caught Quatre in a tight hug, ignoring the pounding that seemed to shake the entire trailer. He pressed a light kiss to Quatre's lips and then released him. "I'll come for you. It might take a while, but I promise I'll be there."

Quatre looked up into those beautiful green eyes and nodded. "I'll be waiting." He turned and walked out of the trailer to where several men in suits waited for him.

_to be continued_....

I've fiddled around and tweaked this chapter as much as I dare. I don't know when the next part will be up, I'm about halfway finished writing it. Do be advised that the next chapter will upgrade this to an M rating. Thanks for reading and let me know what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: I'm not really happy with the way this chapter turned out, but after messing around with it and tweaking it here and there I haven't been able to change it to my satisfaction, so I gave up. Most of it has to do with the sex scene. I don't think I'm very good at writing them…… well, here's hoping all who read don't find this installment too lacking. I've done my best and will try to improve as I go along. I hope you enjoy it regardless._

"Master Winner, excuse me Master Winner."

Quatre turned away from the large picture window in his office, glancing back at his secretary who stood on the other side of his desk. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in. What do you need Ashton?"

"Your signature is needed on several documents sir."

Quatre sighed and sat down in the CEO's leather chair. Obediently he signed everywhere his secretary pointed out, tossing his pen down on the desk after he finished, watching as Ashton straightened the papers meticulously and placed them in a briefcase. Even if all decisions were made by the board they still needed his signature on the odd document here and there. "Was that all Ashton?"

"Yes sir."

The door to his office opened and two of his bodyguards appeared. Privately Quatre considered them to be his paid keepers, making sure he stayed where he was supposed to, made all the public appearances that were necessary and toed the lines drawn up for him as puppet CEO of the business.

"Time to leave Master Winner."

Quatre stood and shrugged into his suit coat, straightening his tie with practiced ease. "What's on the agenda for today?"

The younger of the two men answered. Quatre had to think for a moment before he remembered his name.

Aaron, no that wasn't it. This young man had replaced Aaron. It was another biblical name. Daniel, yes, that was it. "Dinner party with the head of the Gallagher Legal Firm."

Edward Gallagher, the man who had drawn up the papers that had stripped away his power. Quatre grimaced. "I can barely wait."

The older bodyguard, Winston, hid a smile at his sarcasm even while Daniel frowned. Of all his keepers Quatre liked Winston the best. "Named after an old leader from Earth named Winston Churchill." He often boasted. "Resolute British fellow he was." He never badgered Quatre, quietly sympathizing with him while he did his job efficiently.

Quatre followed Winston out of the office. Daniel fell in behind him, a tad too close to Quatre's personal space for his comfort. He hurried his pace a bit, but Daniel kept up with him. As they waited for the elevator Winston glanced at the younger man. "Ease up there bucko. You don't want to be stepping on his heels. Give him a little space."

Daniel hmphed and turned away. Quatre looked his thanks, grinning when Winston winked at him.

In the elevator Daniel began speaking, his tone of voice showing he was offended by Winston's comment. "I was instructed to tell you that you were expected to be obliging at the dinner party this evening."

Quatre gritted his teeth together for a long moment before replying. "I'll be as polite as I always am. Don't expect anything more from me." _Obliging._ He gave an inward shudder. He knew what that instruction was about. Gallagher had a daughter who had shown an enthusiastic interest in him. She was pretty enough with the ability to carry an interesting conversation. If his tastes ran in that direction he might've been intrigued. As it was she was the daughter of the man who'd helped several of his sisters lock him into his pretty cage. He stared at the mirrored doors, his reflection slightly wavy. Times like these he wished Iria was still alive. She had been so cheerful and business savvy. But she was gone just like Father. Quatre shook himself mentally. He didn't like to remember that time. It precluded one of the darkest times he'd ever gone through.

The elevator came to a stop, the doors sliding open with a ding. Winston stepped out first and they fell into their formation again. Daniel hung back, the distance wasn't much but at least Quatre couldn't feel the man's breath on the back of his neck.

Winston opened the back door of the limousine that was idling by the entrance into the building. "Here you go Mr. Winner."

"Thanks Winston." Quatre said quietly, sliding into the vehicle. Both of the men followed him settling into their seats. Daniel tapped on the partition and they started moving. The driver was probably another one of his bodyguard detail. Quatre shut his eyes, leaning his head against the back of the seat. Relena as the Vice Foreign Minister didn't even have the amount of security he did. Of course, she didn't have people telling her what she was supposed to do either.

"You alright Mr. Winner?"

Quatre realized he must've sighed out loud. "I'm fine Winston."

Daniel snorted.

Quatre shut his eyes again. _Trowa where are you?_ It'd been nearly seven months since he'd left Earth and Trowa behind. He knew Trowa would come, that was the only thing that kept him holding on. But sometimes he found himself getting impatient. So far he hadn't been forced to do anything unbearable, but he never knew when he would be pushed over that line.

The house they stopped at was one Quatre was, to his regret, quite familiar with. He was greeted at the door by a butler. "Good evening Master Winner. If you would follow me." Quatre did as he was told, Winston and Daniel ghosting along behind him. The butler led him to a drawing room filled with people laughing and drinking. Quatre pasted his socializing smile on as Gallagher made his way over to him.

"Quatre Winner, quite a pleasure to see you this evening." Gallagher held out his hand.

"Edward." Quatre shook his hand, keeping his expression bland as he did so.

"Alyssa has been dying to see you." Gallagher continued. He released his hand and turned. "Alyssa," He called, "look who's here."

A slender young woman in a royal purple evening dress that complemented her complexion perfectly glided up. Her dark hair was pinned in a careless look that let curls spill down here and there. "Daddy, you don't have to yell." She chided before turning to Quatre. "It's such a pleasure to see you Mr. Winner. I'm so delighted you could come."

Quatre took her offered hand and squeezed it gently. "You're looking lovely tonight Miss Gallagher."

"Please, call me Alyssa." She blushed as he released her hand.

"Why don't you introduce him around?" Gallagher suggested. He shot a pointed glance at Quatre that his daughter didn't see and Quatre felt the bile beginning to rise in the back of his throat, the suspicion he'd had taking a more definite shape in his mind. But he was trapped here under Gallagher's penetrating gaze and didn't dare let a single emotion show on his face so he turned to Alyssa, politely offering his arm.

"Thank you." She took his arm, her gloved hand resting lightly in the crook of his elbow. He followed her about the room as she introduced him to the other guests. He laughed and made light conversation, charming the ladies and entertaining the gentlemen while trying to ignore the whispers that began circling the small room.

"Such a lovely couple don't you think?"

"They do look good together."

"She's so sweet, it would be a good match."

Quatre glanced at Alyssa, but she seemed singularly oblivious to the whispers.

When it became time to eat he found he was predictably seated next to Alyssa. He was the perfect gentleman, sliding her chain in behind her, attentive in conversation. He watched her eyes brighten and her smiles become even more enchanting as the evening progressed while the sick feeling in his stomach grew.

He was overly relieved when it was over. Alyssa let her hand linger on his arm a tad longer then propriety allowed when she bid him good night, granting him another brilliant smile. Quatre caught Gallagher's satisfied smirk as he left. He slouched in the limousine resisting the urge to punch something.

"I'll be sure to tell your sisters you were quite obliging this evening." Daniel remarked, his smirk an exact copy of Gallagher's.

Quatre bit his tongue to keep from answering with a flurry of curses.

"Shut up Daniel." Winston said tiredly.

Quatre kept his silence until he was safely in his own room. Then he gave vent to his feelings by slamming his right fist into the wall so hard he split his knuckles. "Bastards." He hissed. They were going to force him into an engagement he didn't want and didn't know if he could avoid. He sank down on his bed cradling his bleeding right hand. _I'm so tired, I don't know how much more I can take. _

There was a quiet tap on the door. "Go away." Quatre called wearily.

The door opened and Winston entered. "I brought you an evening drink Mr. Winner."

"I didn't ask for anything." Quatre didn't look at him.

"Sometimes it helps." Winston lifted his hand, tsked as he examined the knuckles. "What did you do?"

"Punched the wall." Quatre admitted.

"Surprising you didn't put a dent in it." Winston headed to the attached bathroom and came back with a wet washcloth and some gauze and peroxide. Quatre watched, hissing in air through his teeth when Winston poured the peroxide on the wound before wrapping it up with gauze. After he was finished tending to Quatre's hand Winston opened the bottle of brandy, pouring some of the liquor into a tumbler and silently handed it to Quatre.

Quatre swallowed the booze, grimacing as it burned on it's way. He held out his tumbler, letting Winston pour him another one. He drank the second glass slower. "They're painting me into a corner Winston." He said bleakly. _They're going to try and make me marry Alyssa Gallagher._ He finished the remainder of brandy in his tumbler.

"I was thinking Mr. Winner. Tomorrow your schedule is pretty free. Perhaps you'd like to go out for a bit." Winston said carefully.

Quatre picked up the bottle, pouring himself more. "Minimum security?" He couldn't keep the hopeful note out of his voice.

"I'll see what I can do sir." Winston patted him gently on his shoulder before leaving.

Quatre sighed and tossed back his third glass, eyed the bottle and decided against anymore. If he did get to go out tomorrow he didn't want to ruin a bit of the day coping with a hangover. Any little bit of freedom he got was meant to be cherished and he planned on doing exactly that.

/:/\:\

Quatre wasn't surprised to find there wouldn't be minimum security for his outing. If anything it seemed the suits had been increased slightly. "Sorry Mr. Winner." Winston whispered. "I tried."

"I know, thanks Winston." Quatre couldn't help feeling exuberant regardless of his escort. At least he was leaving the house and the office for a while.

Quatre was random, taking in an afternoon movie and a leisurely stroll through an outdoor garden. As the afternoon progressed and his time dwindled he felt his horizons shrink as they always did after a day out.

"There's this nice café I thought you might enjoy visiting." Winston said casually. "The food there is excellent."

"Why not." Quatre shrugged, catching something in Winston's voice that he couldn't quite interpret.

The café had several tables outside. Quatre sat at one with Winston and another bodyguard while the rest of the suits filled the other tables.

"Hi, my name is Ahmed and I'll be your server today."

Quatre barely managed to contain his reaction. The man standing next to his table was one of the Maguanac Corps. He stared at Ahmed for a moment, before blinking and glancing away for a moment. "Can I get you something to drink?" Ahmed asked, lowering one eyelid in a slow wink as he did so.

"Water please." Quatre managed. He watched as Ahmed collected the rest of the group's drink orders and entered the restaurant.

"Nice café isn't it Mr. Winner?" Winston asked casually.

"Yeah, very." Quatre's mind had sped up, shooting through possibilities with a rapidity that almost surprised him. He hadn't seen a single one of the Maguanac Corps since he'd been relieved of his authority. He'd assumed they'd still been employed by the company but moved to departments where they wouldn't be able to interact with him, but now it seemed like that might not've been the case.

"If I might make a suggestion Mr. Winner, the Caesar salad here is excellent. Or if you want something more filling then you might like the chicken rigatoni." Winston's voice broke him out of his thoughts and he glanced up from where he'd been staring blankly at his menu. Ahmed was heading back to their table several glasses on his tray.

"That sounds good."

Ahmed was all business as he took their orders and entered the café again. Quatre resisted the urge to jiggle his leg impatiently as he tried to figure out how he could use this meeting to his advantage. Try as he might there just wasn't any opportunity to speak privately with Ahmed and Quatre began to despair as he finished his meal.

Ahmed came with their check, accepting the credit card Quatre handed him when Winston somehow managed to knock over his glass, spilling water and ice all over the table and onto Quatre as well.

"I'm so sorry Mr. Winner." Winston leaped up and began to pat at him with a napkin.

"It's fine Winston." Quatre fended off the man's attempts to dry him and stood. "I'll take care of it myself." He turned toward Ahmed. "Can you tell me where the men's restroom is?"

"Head inside, straight back and to the left."

Quatre nodded and headed inside, Winston following. Quatre paused at the restroom door. "You don't have to come in."

"I'll wait out here. Take your time Mr. Winner." Again there was something in Winston's voice he couldn't quite interpret.

Quatre pushed open the door and grabbed a handful of paper towels from the dispenser, using them to blot at his clothes. As he worked he glanced about the room. It was a typical restroom with a line of urinals and a couple stalls but what caught his attention was the window. It wasn't large but he was confident he could fit through it. He took a couple steps towards it when the door behind him swung open and he jumped guiltily. Turning around he expected to see Winston checking up on him, instead he saw yet another familiar face. "Ali?"

The Maguanac grinned at him. "Rashid wanted me to tell you that we're getting you the hell out of here. There's an alley that runs behind the café. Turn right down the alley, there'll be a taxi waiting for you. Are you ready?" At Quatre's nod he urged Quatre toward the window and gave him a boost up. Quatre jimmied it open. He wasn't as acrobatic as Trowa but he still managed to flip himself around and began to wriggle through the open space feet first. He was hanging with his torso still inside the restroom when the door opened again and Winston entered. Quatre froze, his hopes of escape slipped away.

"Don't worry Mr. Winner." Winston hastened to assure him. "I just wanted to tell you to be careful and to find yourself a real good lawyer, that is if you don't mind a last piece of advice from an old man."

"I will." Quatre nodded, reaching down through the window to clasp Winston's hand. "Thank you Winston."

"Now you better hurry up and get out of here." Winston released him. "I'm gonna have to start a fuss real soon."

"I know." Quatre wiggled the rest of the way out and dropped lightly to the ground. He glanced both ways before heading to the right. A taxi sat next to the curb exactly as Ali had said. The rear passenger door opened and a memorable smile greeted him. "Trowa?"

"Come on." Trowa reached out and grabbed his hand, tugging him into the taxi. Quatre stumbled, falling against his friend. He enjoyed the contact before reluctantly sitting back in his seat. "Head for the spaceport." Trowa instructed the cabbie. As they merged into traffic Quatre glanced out the back window in time to see one of the suits burst around the corner glancing around wildly. He instinctively tensed.

"Relax," Trowa murmured. "Everything's fine."

"Yes." Quatre nodded. He shoved all extraneous emotion to the back of his mind along with the dozens of questions he wanted to ask Trowa.

At the spaceport he followed Trowa, just two more anonymous travelers hurrying to catch their flight. "You have to change." Trowa paused outside a men's restroom and shoved a small rucksack at Quatre. Quatre nodded. The jeans were a tad tighter then he was used to, but everything else fit perfectly. He pulled the black ball cap advertising a team he wasn't familiar with on, stuffed his old clothes into the rucksack and exited the restroom.

"The pants are too tight." He complained as he rejoined Trowa.

"You look good in them." Trowa answered. "Come on our shuttle's about to leave."

Quatre shook his head. "You bought them too small on purpose." He accused.

Trowa just grabbed his upper arm and started dragging him toward their gate. Quatre shook his head and lengthened his stride to keep up. He was panting slightly as they boarded their shuttle and found their seats. "So what's the plan?"

"We'll switch shuttles at the next stop. I have a private one waiting." Trowa said. "It shouldn't be too hard to disappear since we're dealing with civilians. You probably could've managed by yourself."

"Not without hurting someone." Quatre admitted. "And I didn't want to give them more ammunition to add to their charge about my psychological state." He leaned closer to Trowa. "I'm glad you came."

"I promised." Trowa gave him a small smile. "It took me longer then I wanted. I had to take care of a couple of loose ends."

"Is Cathy mad at me?"

"No more than usual."

"Does she know you left the circus to help me?" Quatre asked, suspicious.

"No. I didn't feel the need to tell her that."

"I see." Quatre said dryly. So much for mending bridges.

Trowa reached out and covered Quatre's hand briefly with his own. "Don't worry. Try to get some rest, it's a long flight."

/:/\:\

The second shuttle flight seemed twice as long as the first. Quatre stretched gingerly as he waited for Trowa next to their very small pile of luggage. They were still in the colonies for now. "Eventually I think we can head down to Earth if that's what you want to do." Trowa had said quietly.

"What do I want to do?" Quatre mused. He allowed himself to indulge in a very vivid fantasy while they were on the second flight of simply disappearing with Trowa, somewhere the two of them could be completely alone. It had been a nice daydream but one that he knew in his heart he would never act upon in real life. Because no matter how much he might try to pretend otherwise he was way too conscientious and responsible in the end. "Lack of air in space is not your fault." He muttered.

"What was that?"

Quatre looked up, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth involuntarily. "Oh, just something I heard Duo said about me once."

"Oh." Trowa lifted a duffel bag and slung it over a shoulder. Quatre hurried to help him gather the rest of the bags and followed him out of the spaceport.

"So what sector are we in now?" Quatre asked curious.

"Sector One." Trowa sidestepped an overburdened tourist.

"This must be one of the larger colonies." Quatre observed, keeping up with Trowa easily since the crowd slowed his friend down a bit.

"I booked us a hotel room for the next couple of days."

Trowa's comment sent a shiver of anticipation down Quatre's spine and made his stomach flip with delicious nervousness. "Really?" He struggled to keep his tone even. "Then what?"

"Then you can figure out what you want to do." Trowa led him past the crowd of people clustered around the line of cabs to the long term parking. "But first, I want to have you all to myself."

Quatre could've sworn his heart stopped beating at that statement. True Trowa had admitted his feelings for Quatre ran deeper than friendship, but hearing that possessive tone of voice reaffirmed it. He silently hoped the hotel wasn't a long drive from the spaceport.

It wasn't. When they got to their room Quatre paused. Trowa however wasn't so shy. He pulled Quatre close and kissed him hard.

They were both breathing heavily when they parted. "What took you so long?"

"Like I said before, I had a couple of loose ends." Trowa began unbuttoning Quatre's shirt. "I signed a contract with the circus, it wasn't that easy to get out of."

"You quit your job?" Quatre tugged at Trowa's belt, unfastening it.

"You might say that." Trowa's fingers were nimbly unsnapping Quatre's jeans and slowly easing down the zipper. He slid one hand down Quatre's briefs and cupped his penis. "I had more important things to do."

"Oh-h." Quatre's entire body shuddered as Trowa stroked him, his fingers curled into the waistband of Trowa's jeans. "But you know, that wasn't what I was asking about." He moaned again.

"I'm jealous of all the men who've ever touched you." Trowa murmured

Quatre was by no means a virgin, still no one had ever made him feel this way. Trowa's hands, his mouth, his breath, they drove him wild.

When Quatre started thrusting into Trowa's hand the taller man stopped and withdrew his hand. "I've been thinking about this the entire time we've been apart. I plan on savoring this evening." He pulled Quatre's shirt off the rest of the way, bending down to capture Quatre's mouth with his own.

Quatre wrapped his arms around Trowa's neck and kissed him back passionately. Pressed as closely to Trowa as he was he could feel Trowa's erection straining through his jeans. He couldn't resist the urge to grind his hips against Trowa, stimulating both their crotches. He felt Trowa groan into his mouth.

"You are quite the tease aren't you?" Trowa murmured. He ran a hand caressingly through Quatre's hair before pulling him over to the bed. "My turn."

Quatre let Trowa push him down on his back and remove his pants. He watched as Trowa bent over his erection, the warmth of his breath torturing the sensitive flesh before finally taking it into his mouth.

Quatre's fingers curled into the sheets, every muscle in his body tensing with the sensations Trowa coaxed out of him with his mouth and tongue. "Ah-h, Trowa,"

Trowa just kept sucking, alternating his technique so that no matter how close Quatre came to tipping over the edge into climax he never quite made it. Soon Quatre was writhing on the bed in an agony of postponed fulfillment. "Trowa, Trowa please…" He couldn't help begging as he was denied yet another opportunity of release.

For a moment he thought Trowa was going to ignore him but then Trowa sat up and gripped Quatre's erection with his hand, giving it one firm stroke. It was enough. Quatre cried out, his body arching with his release.

When he opened his eyes he found Trowa sitting on the edge of the bed, watching him. "I always wondered what you looked like when you came." Trowa said.

"Now you know." Quatre glanced at Trowa's groin. "Are you going to return the favor?"

"Of course." Trowa stood up and slowly began to strip the rest of his clothing off. Quatre watched him, his mouth going slightly dry. "Like what you see?" Trowa asked with a small smile.

"Yes." Quatre breathed. He was gorgeous. Quatre took his time perusing Trowa from top to bottom, his gaze lingering on Trowa's erect cock. The sight of it made his own stir. He sat up and reached out, running his hands over Trowa's abs. "You're so beautiful." He bent forward and began placing soft kisses on Trowa's skin.

"So are you." Trowa eased Quatre back down, running his hands over his legs.

Trowa was a very patient lover. He coaxed Quatre along to the point of begging before he finally entered him. Even then he held back until Quatre thought he'd die from the anticipation. He cried out from relief as well as pleasure when he finally climaxed for the second time.

Above him Trowa groaned out his own release before dropping down to rest on top of Quatre. Quatre held him close as both their heartbeats slowed down and their bodies cooled. "No, don't." Quatre tightened his grip when Trowa attempted to roll off him to the side. "Stay like this, just for a little while longer."

"I don't want to crush you."

"You're not. Please."

Trowa leaned on his forearms, taking some of his weight off Quatre but keeping their bodies close together. "As you wish."

Quatre sighed, letting his hands run up and down Trowa's back, enjoying the sensation of skin under his palms. He closed his eyes, he felt grounded by Trowa's scent, weight, the feel of his skin. At this moment he needed nothing else. Quatre sighed again and loosened his grip on Trowa, feeling a sense of loss as Trowa rolled to the side. It didn't last as Trowa pulled Quatre close, letting his head pillow on his chest. "Sleep now."

Quatre closed his eyes and fell asleep to the sound of Trowa's heartbeat.

/:/\:\

Alyssa Gallagher sang along to the radio, lightly tapping the fingers of her right hand on the steering wheel to the music as she waited at a traffic light. The cars in front of her started moving and she stepped on the accelerator, inching forward and gradually speeding up. She took a right, pulling into the parking garage of the headquarters for the company Quatre Winner ran.

The lobby was nearly empty when she entered. A man with a chestnut brown braid that fell down his back past his hips stood glaring at the receptionist. "Listen, I'm a personal friend of Quatre Winner."

"I'm sorry sir, but Mr. Winner is a very busy man and cannot be disturbed at the moment." The receptionist looked weary.

Alyssa approached. "Pardon me," She interrupted before the man could begin speaking again.

Both looked at her, there was relief in the receptionist's eyes while the man just looked frustrated. "I'm Alyssa Gallagher."

"Oh, are you perhaps looking for your father?" The receptionist asked.

"Actually, I was hoping to see Quatre." Alyssa smiled at her.

The receptionist's face fell. "I'm very sorry Miss Gallagher, Mr. Winner is unavailable at the moment."

"I'm positive that he'll see me, and if this gentleman is his friend then you could at least let him know he's here."

"I'm sorry." The woman repeated. "My instructions were clear. Mr. Winner is not to be disturbed."

"I see." Alyssa frowned. "Can you tell me what my father is doing here?"

"He had a meeting with the board. They should be finished shortly. Would you like me to let him know you're here?"

"No, that's not necessary." Alyssa turned to the braided man who had been standing there, quietly listening to their conversation. She held out a hand. "My name is Alyssa Gallagher."

"Duo Maxwell." He eyed her for a moment. "Quatre's an old friend."

"Well, he's probably meeting with the board." Alyssa said cheerfully, covering her disappointment at not being able to speak with Quatre. "My father's firm represents the Winner company."

"Your father?"

"He's a lawyer."

Something changed in Duo's eyes. "I see." He moved away from the desk. "Well I better get going."

"Don't you want to leave a message for him?" Alyssa called after him. "I mean, I'm sure he'd be very sorry he missed you."

Duo paused glancing back at her. "Nah, that's okay. I'll catch him another time. It was nice meeting you Miss Gallagher."

"You too." Alyssa watched as he left, the doors shutting automatically behind him.

"Alyssa? What are you doing here?"

Alyssa turned to see her father exiting the elevator. "Father, I was… I mean, I thought I would stop by and see Mr. Winner."

"Oh." Gallagher's face softened just slightly before becoming it's normal impenetrable mask. "Mr. Winner is extraordinarily busy today my dear. I'm afraid he can't be disturbed at all."

"I see." Alyssa tried to hide her disappointment. "Perhaps we could invite him over to dinner sometime next week."

"Yes, of course we'll do that." Her father touched her briefly on the shoulder. "You must pardon me Alyssa, I have another meeting I can't be late for."

"Of course." Alyssa watched her father leave, frowning slightly. There'd been something in her father's voice that hadn't matched up with his words. "He was lying."

"Pardon me Miss Gallagher?"

Alyssa glanced back at the receptionist. "Oh, nothing. I'm sorry I bothered you." What was going on? She exited the building, heading for her car.

As she pulled out into traffic she turned the volume on her radio louder trying to drown out the niggling feeling something was wrong.

_to be continued….._


End file.
